


a nagging thought

by Nerlune



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, M/M, Minor references to the rest of Vox Machina, Vax being his usual self-hating self, Very romanticized view of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerlune/pseuds/Nerlune
Summary: Magic breathes and shivers, leaping and rushing into every open space. Vax has always been empty, and the magic that takes hold doesn't help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble. It's super un-edited and very out of my comfort range in style. I'm also Vax'imore trash, so.

Being around Gilmore always reinvigorated him. 

 

Powerful magic users tend to inherit the traits of their power. The feel of their magic constantly sparking and sliding just underneath their skin. The very power given to them by the gods and life like a second skin- an armor. 

 

He felt unworthy, sometimes. Like a mere mortal standing before the gods themselves. 

 

Then he became a raven. All of a sudden he could feel a dark energy pooling underneath his skin, inaccessible except in the most dire of circumstances. It scared him, becoming privy to something he had only ever witnessed. He would drag his fingers up his arm and shiver from the cool iciness that would follow in an almost visible trail. 

 

He still felt unworthy.

 

Pike- warm and soothing, solid like the dependable earth below them and sheltering them.

 

The natural chaos that exuded from his twins pores and gave her every movement an almost feral grace. The smooth counter to the bestiality of his sister in the constantly changing energy underneath Keyleth’s skin. Both warm, like the gentle heat on a rock that’s been sitting in the sun all day.

 

Almost constant vibrations and odd memories of sound that waft off Scanlan. Touching him left a slight numb feeling because of the odd flickering and wavering his magic caused. Heat, almost sweltering would always come from the gnome. 

 

Gilmore felt like the sun. The magic underneath and gently wavering over his skin felt like rays of a noon sun. Sometimes the heat that emanated from Gilmore caused-- that feeling when icy numb fingers get thrust under a hot spray of water and it hurts but-- he could do nothing but gain a sense of happiness from those pinpricks of heat. 

 

He felt unworthy, because in all this warmth and heat from his family… he’s cold. The power under his skin traces ice in his veins and his skin crackles when pressed too hard like sheets of ice are breaking with every touch against him. 

 

Dancing molten pools of gold would stop him though, blind him in their intense love. Long fingers adorned with glittering gold would ignore the almost uncomfortable iciness of his skin and trace loving trails up and down and across his whole body. Huffs of laughter, small chuckles, bloomed over his neck and made his pulse quicken and burn. 

 

 _Don’t be ridiculous, Vax’ildan._

 

He hated the cold of his skin. Refusing touch with almost everyone, reclusing until the only people who touched him were his twin and-- Gilmore. 

 

_You really think…_

 

Hiding behind jokes and laughter and smiles thrown about carelessly. 

 

_that you’re unworthy?_

 

Hot breaths would follow a path down his ear, pulse, sternum, and rest at his heart. Hot tongue flicking out and gentle teeth soon after.

 

_You are amazing._

 

Large hands pulling him closer and for a moment his ice melts and the sun rays almost exploding from Gilmore hug him tight. 

 

 _Your ice is the hottest of us all._

 

And he doesn’t understand, but the deep tones of Gilmore lull his insecurities to rest.

 

_Like the coldest ice burning itself into your skin. That is what you are, and it doesn’t pain me Vax’ildan. This…_

 

A single finger caresses his chin and stops to push his head up.

 

 _Only makes me burn even hotter._

 

It’s a dance they play, intertwining and teasing in turn. Their magics, so diametrically opposed, mingle and become a single entity. Just as their bodies arch and reach for the other, so does their magic.

 

It sparks from underneath, it pulses from breaths and hands and any movement, it gravitates and cherishes. 

 

And with the bolstering strength of Gilmore helping, he starts to feel worthy again.


End file.
